


Flow Rate

by problematic-fave (salt_and_burn)



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Daddy Kink, Forced Wetting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Piss kink, Seth cries during sex because when doesn't Seth cry during sex, Subspace, Watersports, Wetting, let's all take a moment and pray for my soul, light humiliation, orgasms happen don't worry, so much piss I am so sorry, this is like a highlight reel of my shameful kinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 05:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7999843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salt_and_burn/pseuds/problematic-fave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth knows he's a kinky little slut. He just didn't know he was this much of a kinky little slut. Trust Dean to show him his true self, in the dirtiest way possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flow Rate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neffectual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neffectual/gifts).



> I'M SORRY PLEASE STILL LOVE ME
> 
> For my wonderful piss parent Neff. (Yes that is now her official title.)
> 
> Warnings - Dean calls Seth a slut, which Seth is uncomfortable with, but Dean notices and doesn't push it. Some alcohol is involved, but nobody's that drunk and all consent is informed, dynamic, and enthusiastic. Roman also has a moment where Seth has not yet consented, but he waits it out and Seth does.

He doesn't know how it starts. Looking back, it's probably easiest to pin on Dean, with his lack of personal boundaries and who gives a fuck attitude. They've both been in that kind of situation, part of the independents life style, where you just have to pee in a bottle in a van full of other guys. But Seth has seen Dean pee in more bottles (and alleyways, and roadsides) than he can probably count, so it feels fair enough to blame him. 

However it started, this is where it's landed him. Half hidden behind the veil of steam fogging up the shower glass, watching Roman pee. He'd feel downright perverted, but the frisson of heat up his spine is almost completely overshadowed by plain (safe, his mind supplies) curiosity. There's something so powerful about Roman, under his calm exterior, that anything he does brings the image of a stallion to Seth's mind, mane wild and free in a tossing wind. Given what Seth can see from here, there's more to the metaphor than just Roman's hair.

Roman's thick and well proportioned, and Seth can't tear his eyes away. He catalogues everything from the subtle differences in skin colour where Roman's fingers hold his dick, to the deeper flush at the head, to the flow of his stream out of his hole. It's pale gold, has Seth wondering if he should be pushing them to drink more water, and so strong he can hear the sound of it hitting the water in the bowl over the sound of the shower. He catches himself wondering about the temperature, about how hot it must be from the inside of Roman's body, and turns away with a fierce blush when Roman sighs deeply in relief.

Seth's heart nearly stops when he catches Dean out of the corner of his eye, leaning in the open bathroom door with a knowing look on his face. He doesn't break eye contact with Seth the whole time he speaks.

"Hey, Ro shove over. I gotta piss too, man."

Roman grumbles and rolls his eyes, stream not stopping as he shifts to the side a little. 

"Unbelievable uce. You couldn't wait another minute?"

"Nah, man, you piss like a damn race horse. It was either cross streams with you or pee in the shower, and Seth's kinda occupying that space. You don't want me to pee all over poor Sethie now, do you?"

Seth caves first, eyes dropping away as Dean pulls his dick out too, darker stream joining Roman's as he groans and rests a hand on his bladder.

Roman's nose wrinkles and he leans slightly away from Dean.

"Why you always gotta sound so pornographic, man? Can't a dude just drain it in peace?"

Dean's tongue pokes out in a smile as he deliberately aims to actually cross streams. 

"Just a natural born performer, brother. Can't be disappointing my two biggest fans."

Seth tries to ignore the fact that he's getting hard listening to his two best friends piss. There's dirty and then there's _dirty_ , and he's not sure he's ready to cross that line yet, if ever.

He listens to them flush and the tap in the sink run, staying under the sudden rush of cold water like it's a punishment, or an absolution.

 

The next time it happens, by some unspoken law of the universe that he'll never understand, it involves a lot of alcohol. 

He's been avoiding Dean's gaze for a while now, will make a point to look away or put his headphones in whenever Dean pulls out an empty bottle, has been pushing Roman to stop more so he doesn't have to sit in the back beside his tangle of confusion and shame and lust while the sound of piss hitting plastic and the slightly acrid scent flood his senses. They're at a bar, all three of them quite far into the mound of beer pitchers stacked in the centre of the table, and Dean finally catches Seth's eyes through the amber of the glass.

It's definitely the drink flooding his system that makes him brave, because he doesn't look away, staring back as he drains his glass. His bladder has been stressed for a while now, occasional spasms and a heavy, almost pleasant ache in the pit of his abdomen. This last glass seems to tip something, forcing it to swell tight against his belt and sending shivers up and down his thighs. God, he needs to piss so bad. Dean can tell, the way he can always tell when something is causing Seth to swing either side of the emotional range of 'just fine'. There's a challenge in the glint of his eyes as he stares Seth down, a dark spark that seems to say _are we doing this_ and _what are you afraid of_ and _I've got you sweetheart, it's all right_ all at once.

A heartbeat, a swallow, a drop of sweat trailing down his neck. He nods the tiniest bit.

Dean smiles, slow and warm and darkly pleased, something reminiscent of Mox in the shadows between his teeth, and rises from his seat, walking away to the bathroom. Seth waits half a minute, heart racing in his chest, watching Roman's eyelids start to droop where he's got his head resting on his arm on the tabletop, breath evening out and deepening.

Seth catches the eye of a disinterested bartender, motions down to Roman. He waits for the nod, an assurance that the other most important person in his life will be watched out for while he's busy, then he's following Dean, trying hard not to trip or knock into any tables while all the blood in his brain drains down towards his dick.

When he gets into the bathroom, one person stall, door locked behind him, he spots Dean leaning against the sink, trying too hard to be casual, smirk firmly in place. 

"So. You're a kinkier little slut than we already gave you credit for, huh?"

Seth can feel the blood rush to his face, tries to tamp down the squirming feeling in his stomach. Dean must notice the drop of his eyes, the clench of his teeth, because he doesn't say that word again, doesn't push it. Instead, cool hands wrap around Seth's forearms, wrap them around Dean's slender waist and pull him tight. 

He gasps a quiet breath into the hollow of Dean's throat, lets those strong arms wrapped around his back create a bubble, take them away from the noise of the bar outside the door for just a second.

"It's ok. I know, baby, I know. You'll be great though, you'll love it I promise."

Dean eases them back so they're sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, Seth's legs spread either side as he straddles Dean's lap. It's not the most comfortable position with a full bladder, and judging by Dean's wince and huffed groan, he's feeling it too. Dean's hands are quick to open both their flies, but then he stops, fingers soothing across the back of Seth's neck, rubbing gently into his hair.

"You trust me, right?"

Seth can't even answer, doesn't have to, breathless with anticipation as he leans forward to kiss Dean. It's hot, sure, but he's more focused on the calming hum Dean makes.

"Yeah. Good boy."

Seth's forehead is on Dean's shoulder, watching Dean's nimble fingers move between them in their laps. He's half hard just from the sound of Dean's voice, but he hunches in on himself, shame a sharp sting, when he sees that Dean's still soft.

"Hey, no, don't whine. Shut up before you get me too hard to do this."

Seth thinks he knows what this is, but it's still odd, Dean's soft member being tucked into the open fly of Seth's jeans, nestled beside his own with only the thin cotton of his briefs between them.

Dean presses a kiss to his temple, Seth's eyes slipping closed as he breathes shakily through his nose. They snap open again with a squeak when he feels the first rush of wet heat.

He can't help the moan that shakes out of his chest at what he sees.

Dean is pissing into his lap, stream strong and heavy and so, so hot. 

Seth is instantly, achingly hard, twitching unconsciously as he watches the wetness soak his underwear and start flowing down the legs of his black jeans. He can hear it start to drip onto the tile.

Dean's moan of relief calls an echo out of Seth's throat, and he just breaks. He can't keep his eyes open, head thrown back to open up his throat for the sounds that want to come out. It feels so good, so good he can't even describe it, so intimate and all encompassing. He can actually feel the piss rushing out of Dean's slit where the head of his dick is resting against Seth's, most forceful part of his stream pushing against the underside of Seth's dick and lighting up pleasure centres and nerves all the way along his spine. 

He can't accurately say how long it lasts, head lost in the warmth and the smell and how tight Dean is gripping his hips, but he's so turned on it hurts, last few spurts so similar to the feeling of Dean cumming on him that he nearly shoots himself. Dean sounds wrecked, voice a gravel rumble through his panting.

"Fuuuck. Fucking Christ, Seth, oh my god. Just give me a second."

Seth is content not to move, luxuriates in the ebbing warmth plastering them both. It only takes a few seconds and Dean is stripping his own cock, remnants of his piss slicking the way for his tight grip. Seth's so sensitive, so ready to cum that the feeling of Dean's semen landing on his cock almost hurts, glistening, dribbling mess leaving a rope between the head of Dean's dick and the fabric of Seth's briefs. He's so ready to finish, to finally orgasm, but the sudden urgent pang of his own bladder makes him cry out in pain.

He's so close to just letting go, but Dean's sudden slap to the thigh makes him hold it.

"Cmon, Seth, be a good boy for me. Just hold it a little longer, yeah? Just till we get back to the hotel."

Seth doesn't think there's anyway he can make that walk, but he sucks it up and nods, wanting to be good for Dean.

In the fluorescents, it's obvious they're both soaked, but in the dim light of the bar it's unlikely anyone will notice anything wrong with Seth's dark skinnies. Dean, on the other hand...

He laughs off Seth's concerned look, waving a sweatshirt that Seth hadn't noticed hanging on the door hook. Seth's mouth drops open as Dean ties it around his waist to conceal the worst of the mess on the back of his thighs, because he recognises that shirt, and it's not Dean's. That shirt is _Roman's_.

"It's ok, baby. He loves us, he'll deal."

They stumble out of the bathroom, legs still like jelly, and the first thing Dean does is bump into a table, knocking a full pitcher of water all over himself. He plays the drunken fool, arms wild and words slurred, but he winks at Seth as he turns back to head out the door. Seth can't see Roman anywhere, he thinks absently, as they leave.

 

They only make it three blocks, Seth whining through gritted teeth, Dean's encouraging hands pulling at his arms where he's got them tucked between his thighs, before a strong arm darts out and pulls them into the shadows of a dark alley. Seth's instantly pushed to the wall, and his heart is in his throat, wondering if this will be the headline, _WWE Star found murdered in alleyway and covered in urine._

The amused voice that sounds next to his ear is so familiar that he almost starts crying in relief.

"That wasn't nice, guys. Leave me asleep in some skeevy bar to sneak off and knock boots. Not cool."

Seth tries to cry out a warning, but it's already too late, Roman's hand having slid down his hip to cup his dick through his pants. He freezes at the same time Roman does, face burning red and tears brimming in his eyes.

Roman's fingers seem to stroke without his knowledge, like he's trying to confirm what his brain is telling him.

"Did... Did you fucking piss yourself?"

Seth can't help the tears that slip down his cheeks, shoulders shaking where Roman's other arm still has them pinned to the wall. What the hell is he supposed to say?

"N-no, I, I, no but I need, I have to, _pleaseletmego!_ "

Roman's hands are off him in an instant, but he doesn't step back, warmth of him radiating against Seth's skin, breath ruffling the stray hairs that have escaped his messy bun. 

Seth can feel the rumble of his voice in his rib cage when Roman speaks.

"What's the matter, honey? Your little dick desperately need to let go? This bladder all tight and full, huh?"

His hand is unbelievably gentle on Seth's stomach, the lightest brush, like he wants to make it as obvious as he can that he'll step back and turn around in an instant if Seth tells him to. Seth is caught, muscles shrugging like a horse covered in flies, indecisive. Roman's patience makes up his mind. He pushes his hips forward, pushes his bladder hard up under Roman's hand, whining loud at the increase in the pressure. Oh god, he can't last much longer.

Roman's grin is radiant enough to light up the alley.

"Yeah, thought so. Always been such a messy, unorganised little boy, haven't you?"

He's got them turned around, Seth's back pressed to Roman's front, snug together. His hands are in Seth's pants, one pressing down on his bladder and the other stroking Seth's soft dick where it's still covered in Dean's piss and tacky semen. He feels Roman's quick inhale, fuck, feels him get hard against Seth's ass as he smirks at Dean.

"So _you_ pissed yourself huh? Had some fun with our boy? Should've known."

He chuckles softly, speaks over Seth's whining as his arm and hand keep pressing down on his bladder, an iron bar of pressure that Seth clings to in order to stay up right.

"Do you need my help, baby? Need daddy to help you let go and make a nice, pissy mess of yourself again?"

Oh, fuck him, fuck him so damn hard. That's new, that's a kink he didn't even know he was into, but it makes his hips snap back to grind into Roman's hardness through their pants, and if he wasn't so close to pissing it'd have him hard enough to pound nails.

He's dimly aware that he's crying, sobbing in Roman's arms as the pressure in his bladder reaches unbearable levels and the head of his dick tingles. One sharp squeeze from Roman, almost a bear hug, and the levee breaks.

He jerks, and then he starts to wet himself. 

He's incapable of making any noise except a wavering, wailing inhale. Roman's hand is still in his briefs, and he groans, fingers rubbing at Seth's slit as, _fuck_ , as Seth pisses into Roman's hand. 

It feels too good, feels better than an orgasm, the sharp relief of a pressure that had built between the bottom of his ribs and the tops of his thighs, the nipping pleasure of Roman squeezing and fondling his soft little dick. His eyes roll back into his head and he slumps into Roman's body, legs no longer capable of holding him upright.

It should be dirty, should make him sick with shame, but he's incapable of thinking beyond the pleasure, the warmth, the overwhelming flow, god, there's so much running down his legs and pooling at his feet, and there's still so much inside him.

Roman keeps kneading his bladder, keeps forcing his piss out of him, until finally, he's almost finished, last spurts shooting into Roman's cupped palm and getting rubbed over his furred stomach. He's soaked from his hips to the soles of his feet, knows Roman must be almost as wet. He wants to be good for his daddy, wants to thank him for helping him wet properly, but he's boneless, can't even stand properly, and judging from the ginger way Roman plucks at his own crotch, oh my god, Roman came in his pants from helping Seth piss himself. 

Seth's an over sensitive, frazzled, soaked mess. His eyes are blown, his face and chest are bright red, and his hair is unbelievably frizzy. Roman keeps his arms tight around him, mumbles in his ear about how good he is, such a sweet boy, daddy's precious baby boy, and it hurts to get hard but he does.

Tears leak down his face anew when Dean drops to his knees in front of him, paying no heed to the mess, and takes his dick out of his soaked pants. Seth hisses through the raw feeling, shakes to pieces when Dean takes him in his mouth. He isn't expecting it to hit him so hard in the chest, but it does, this undeniable proof that they love him, all of him, even the parts other people are disgusted by, and he cries through his watery orgasm as Dean sucks him off.

 

It's a production to get back into the hotel without causing a stir, all three of them racing for the elevator as subtly as they can. Once they're back in their shared room, they head for the shower. It's a tight squeeze for all three of them, but Seth's coming down from subspace and he's clinging to them both. Their clothes all get left in a heap on the tile.

Roman is first in, setting the water hotter than Seth is used to, but it feels good, heats up his skin where the moisture had gone freezing cold on the walk back. Dean is almost as tired as Seth, both of them plastering themselves to Roman as soon as his back is to them. He gets them upright long enough to scrub them down, Dean clumsily helping to wash Seth's hair and gently running conditioner through the end of Roman's. It's while he's busy doing that that Roman turns to Seth with a slightly sheepish grin.

"Hey, uh, not that I think you'll mind, but I've kind of been holding it since y'all left the bar. Did... Did you want..."

And he's making awkward little motions with his hands, trying to suggest something with the upturn of his eyebrows. It clicks when he actually takes Seth's hand and pulls it toward his crotch.

"Saw ya watching the other day, thought maybe you'd like to hold it for me?"

Seth's too tired to get it up, thank god, but Roman asking sends a pleasant warmth buzzing through him. It speaks something about trust, and intimacy, and bonding, and yes, yes he would like to do that.

He faces Roman, lets the water beat down on his back. His hands don't shake, are sure and soft and gentle. It fills him with a muted sort of wonder, Roman relaxing with a sigh and gently bumping their foreheads together, confident enough to let Seth handle him as he lets go. It's nice, in a way that Seth utterly fails to describe.

Once Roman's finished and they're all clean and out, the dirty clothes get left in the tub to soak, and they fall into bed. Clean hair and skin and the warmth of three big bodies in a bed just slightly too small for them, wrapped close around each other as they fall asleep.

And if Seth stumbles out of bed at 3am to pee and finds two extra sets of hands there to help, well. It won't be the last time.

**Author's Note:**

> IDK what happened at the end there, somehow it got all mushy on me.
> 
> Tags will be updated with the second chapter, because I don't think there's been NEARLY enough angst in this, do you?


End file.
